Chapter 21 Levi
LEVI
Iboth hated and loved that I had to work. Loved that I got to spend the entire day at the shop, surrounded by other artists.
Hated I couldn’t be there with Violet when she was upset and needed me.
Though I had a phone full of photos featuring the ugliest cat I’d ever seen, along with Violet looking thrilled and X looking terrified, so I guessed she’d found a way to fill her time and keep her mind off Nyah’s sudden disappearance.
I wished I could say the same though. Maybe she had just gone back to her family. Maybe they’d forced her back. I didn’t know.
But all I could think about was Dax and how he must be feeling. How out of his mind he had to be, wondering where she was.
It just made me want to put a tracker on Violet, so I knew where she was at every minute of the day.
If someone took her from me, the way they’d taken Nyah from Dax… My stomach clenched at the very thought of it. I shook my fingers out, realizing they’d clenched into fists. I would burn the fucking world down for Violet. And I didn’t mean that in the poetic sense.
I meant it literally.
I was so fucking in love with her, losing her now would destroy me.
King leaned over my shoulder, studying the practice piece I was working on. “Watch those lines. They’re shaky.”
I nodded, agreeing with him. “I will. Sorry.”
“You’re good, Levi. But you gotta concentrate. Nobody wants a wonky outline.”
“Working on it.”
“Good.”
We both glanced over as the bell above the shop door tinkled.
Lynx walked in, all broad shoulders beneath a long-sleeved white shirt.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. I knew his skin was covered in tats. Some were works of art he’d gotten before we’d been locked up, others the prison variety that looked like trash. I’d refused to let anyone near my skin while we were inside, but I think Lynx had craved the pain.
King nodded at him. “Can we help you with something, bro?”
Lynx’s gaze strayed to me. “Wouldn’t mind some new ink if you’ve got time?”
King squinted at the computer on the desk in front of him that held the studio calendar with each artist’s time blocked out in various colors. He shook his head. “I’ve got appointments—”
Lynx nodded at me. “What about you, Reaper? You got any room on your calendar for an old friend?”
King threw a bucket of water on that idea before I could even respond. “He’s got a long way to go on his apprenticeship. He’s not qualified to be putting a needle in anyone’s skin yet.”
I knew he was right, but it still kind of smarted. I was new. But I wasn’t completely without a clue. The only reason my lines were so shaky today was because my head was full of Violet and Nyah, and memories of those bodies kept playing over and over in my head.
Lynx eyed me. “What if I’m willing to be a test subject?”
I glanced at King. The man might have been ten years younger than me, but while Dax wasn’t here, he was in charge. I wasn’t stupid enough to fuck up my chances by pretending like I was top dog, just because I was older.
King eyed Lynx. “Gotta warn you, bro, you let a brand-new apprentice ink you, you’re brave. You get what you get. He’s got talent, but its raw and untrained.”
Lynx pulled up his shirt, showing off washboard abs but also a variety of prison tattoos.
King cringed at them.
Lynx chuckled. “I already know he’s better than this shit.”
King clapped me on the shoulder. “All yours if you want to take it.”
I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Tattooing something other than these fake skins would be the highlight of my week. I jerked my head at Lynx. “Come on then. Show me what you want.”
King wandered away, leaving Lynx to sink into the seat beside mine. He rolled his sleeve up. “Surprise me.”
I raised an eyebrow, but when Lynx just grinned back, I couldn’t help but smile. I knew him. I’d spent six years in a cell with this man.
I suddenly felt like shit that I’d suspected him at all. Yeah, he was capable of some fucked-up shit, but not the things that had been inflicted on those women. That was some sick son of a bitch, making sure we knew they were watching us, always one step ahead.
Not my good-natured cellmate.
I got my inks out, mentally thinking over what the hell I was going to do with the blank piece of skin he’d offered me. “I still can’t believe we’re both out.”
“Me neither. And you’re already all shacked up with a woman and everything.” He nudged me with his arm. “She’s beautiful, bro.”
“I know.” I saw Violet’s beauty in everything she did and everything she was. Every smile that popped the dimple in her cheek. Every sweet thing she did for other people, always putting her own feelings last. Every wobble of her backside as she walked away, always leaving me wanting more.
I was surprised Lynx had noticed though. Every poster he’d stuck on our cell wall had been of tiny, skinny women with huge fake tits. Beautiful in their own right, for sure, just not what I wanted.
I held the tattoo gun up. “You ready?”
He nodded.
I started working on his arm, freestyling a small design, noting the way his skin and muscle moved differently than the practice skins I’d been working with up until now.
My heart rate picked up, and I moved the needle across his skin with sure, confident strokes, not a hint of the wobbles I’d had earlier.
Something about doing this felt so damn right.
It was the same feeling I had whenever I was around Violet.
It was the knowledge that this was where I was supposed to be.
Lynx watched me work; his gaze trained on his arm. “You remember your first night inside?”
I paused to meet his gaze, but I didn’t really see it. All I saw were men circling me like sharks.
A bag being shoved over my head.
Hands restraining me.
A lack of air. No control.
Fear.
It took me a long time to answer. “Why would you bring that up now?”
Lynx eyed me. “Because you owe me a favor.”
The memories flashing behind my eyes changed. Lynx’s voice in my ears, telling the men to back the fuck off, that I wasn’t fresh meat there for the taking.
That I was his.
The bag disappeared, the claustrophobia and lack of air along with it.
I could breathe again.
But it clearly came with a cost.
I forced myself to nod. In the entire six years that Lynx and I had shared that cell, he’d never brought up that night. Never brought up that he’d saved me, if not my life, he’d at least saved me from men who would have happily held me down and used my body for their own pleasure.
“I owe you,” I agreed.
“Good.” Lynx tapped his fingers just below the area I was working on, drawing my attention back down to it so I could finish the design.
I bit my lip, forcing my concentration through my arm into my fingers. I didn’t want to think about why he was bringing that up again.
I finished the piece quickly, wiping it down, and then allowed him to study my work.
He gave a wry smile at the four claw marks I’d drawn on his skin. The same four claw marks he’d drawn on everything when we’d been inside, making sure everyone knew the property he’d claimed.
He pushed back in his chair, not bothering to let me wrap up the fresh new design. He moved to the mirror, standing in front of it, twisting his arms this way and that, checking out my work from every angle.
King watched on from across the room, and Lynx raised his arm to show him the small design.
“He did good!”
Relief spread across King’s face. He nodded and put his head down, going back to work on the massive chest piece he’d been chipping away at most of the day.
So he didn’t notice when Lynx clapped me on the shoulder and leaned down, so both of us could see the claw marks, his symbol of ownership.
“I love it, Levi.” He breathed out slowly, his lips mere inches from the back of my neck and his mouth close enough to my ear that only I would hear.
“Maybe you should have tattooed this on yourself.”
The rest of my shift was much less eventful.
Dax didn’t return. I texted him though, and he did reply that he’d found no trace of Nyah anywhere and the cops were fucking useless.
I didn’t know what else to say to him, so I just said goodnight, packed up my things, hoping I’d get some time to practice at home before my next shift, and then rode back to Violet’s place.
X’s theatrics filtered down the hallway from behind the closed door, even before I was near enough to knock.
Violet opened the door, her hair an adorable mess, and cat fur all over her sweater. Her eyes widened at the sight of me, but she smiled. “Hey, you. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
So was she. I put my hand to the side of her face, cat fur and all, fingertips on the back of her neck, and pulled her into me. “Hey, beautiful.”
I dropped my lips down to hers, kissing her pretty mouth. The knowledge I got to do this was the only thing that had gotten me through the afternoon, after Lynx had shown up, reminding me of promises I had never made but would be held to anyway.
I only stepped back when feral hissing caught my attention.
“Omelet! He’s doing it again! Harold! Stop it! Love me, damn you! Everyone else does!”
Violet crossed the room, scooping up the most horrifically unfortunate-looking cat I’d ever seen. “Well, what do you expect, X? You just called him a furry hemorrhoid.”
“Because he is!”
Violet rolled her eyes and brought the cat over to me. “Harold, this is Levi. Levi, Harold.”
I reared back at the sight of it. It was even more horrific up close. “You weren’t joking when you said it was ugly, were you?”
Violet and X both glared at me, like I’d just insulted their newborn baby.
“Hey!” I said to X. “You’re the one who called it a hemorrhoid!”
X, with his arms full of cat toys, didn’t seem to care. “You don’t get to call him ugly, Levi. He’s been through trauma. Look at that face. He’s seen things. Probably your nudes.”
I made a face at him but reached for the cat, stroking him beneath his furry chin. “How you doing, Harold? Can I call you Harry for short?”